


Shelter of Wolves

by Labarch



Series: Peaks and Pitfalls [1]
Category: Lupin III
Genre: Character Speculation, Flashbacks, Gen, Graphic Description of Injuries, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Gloat, Nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 13:26:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15244380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Labarch/pseuds/Labarch
Summary: It is always quite the spectacle, when Lupin fails.





	Shelter of Wolves

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! Labarch here (labyrintharchitect on Tumblr). The new Lupin III series has kicked my muse in the face, so I am back to writing fanfics after a break of several years. Critiques on both my English and storytelling are always welcome!
> 
> This is all highly speculative and will probably be disproved by the next few episodes -but it was fun to write nonetheless. Hope you enjoy it!

All in all, the fiasco in Helsinki held a fond place in Albert’s memory. Even the stench had been worth it, for the sight Lupin had made.

The shredded ruins of his sport jacket stuck to his frame; they made him look like a seagull stuck in an oil spill. His left pant leg was missing and exposed a large bite mark on his thigh. He had scratches from barbed wires all over his legs, arms and face. The putrid smell that clung to him was so strong they had opened all the windows in their car. The wind whipped at their faces as Lupin leaned outside to yell profanities into the night.

“So run it by me again,” Albert called above the noise, in his best conversational tone. “Did the dog use you as a chew toy before or after you dropped down a sewer?”

Lupin turned to face him, pure venom in his eyes. A bit of rotten seaweed clung to his forehead, and dripped grey water down the bridge of his nose in a slow, irregular trickle. He opened his mouth to retort but broke into a fit of explosive sneezes.

“You mixed that sedative all wrong, you prick,” he finally spit out. “I swear it only made them angrier.”

“It was your heist; you should have tested it in advance. You always botch up the planning phase. In a sense, tonight is a great proof of concept.”

“I didn’t botch… Hey, hey! Did you mess up the drug on purpose? You knew this would happen!”

“Ha. Prove it.”

Lupin glowered at him some more, suspicion etched across his face, but Albert had turned his attention back to the road. A misty rain was blurring the windshield, and he had to squint through the glare of the headlights to follow the twists and turns of the road. It alarmed him, sometimes, how quickly his eyes would tire at night. However, right now he was far too entertained to care.

Lupin’s jacket made a faint squelching sound as he slumped back into his seat.

“My point is,” he said sullenly, “that I got to the gold bars like I said I would.”

Albert tapped one finger against the steering wheel thoughtfully.

“I suppose you never said how long you would keep them. And who knows? If we ever feel like dredging an entire sewer system, we might even get them back one day.”

“It counts if no one else can get them! At least those bastards won’t be selling them for…Aaaeeeeck!”

Albert jumped at the sudden shriek and nearly veered them clean off the road.

“Have you lost your mind, you…”

“Crab!” Lupin yelled back, eyes blown wide, as he started stomping furiously around. “There’s a crab in my shoe! Fuck, fuck, die!”

If he said so himself, Albert had so far managed to keep a remarkably straight face. But now there was no force on Earth that could keep the roaring laughter from bursting out of his chest. His hands shook on the wheel as he wheezed and tried and failed to regain his composure. 

He had almost calmed down when he heard a small crunch, and his partner froze next to him, shuddering from neck to hairline. Albert let out a last desperate gasp of laughter, which earned him a disgusted look from Lupin.

“I fucking hate you,” he said. “Also, your driving sucks tonight. Hand over the wheel.”

“Get that hand anywhere near me and I’ll shoot it off,” Albert countered amiably. “I am staying in the seat that is not covered in filth, and you owe me a new car: I am setting this one on fire as soon as we get back.”

Lupin stuck his tongue out at him.

“Good riddance, I never liked it! Got a lousy first gear. Think of it as payback for my leg, jerk!”

He planted his naked leg on the dashboard cover for emphasis, filthy toes curling and uncurling impatiently as he spoke -it looked like the shoe had been lost to the dog along with half of his pants. 

The bite mark had stopped bleeding, but it was puffy, and an angry, glistening red that seemed to stare accusingly back at Albert.

“You better get that cleaned up fast,” he said, tearing his eyes from the inflamed flesh, and back to his partner’s face. “It’s getting infected.”

Lupin eyed the leg warily.

“Gee, I hope not,” he sighed, crossing his arms behind his head. “Festering wounds always suck.”

\---------------------------------------------------

Now, the problem with reminiscing about Lupin, was that one memory tended to merge into another, and another, and then another still. And not all of them were as uncomplicatedly enjoyable as this one. 

He didn’t think Lupin’s throwaway comment has fazed him much back then – the bite wound hadn’t festered, even; he was always ridiculously lucky with these things. Yet, his words darkened the tail end of the memory in a way Albert couldn’t control. In that tail end, the man sporting the gaping wound and comfortably sprawled in the passenger seat by his side, seemed unsettling to him, almost alien.

In that tail end he still felt watchful, feverish eyes burn into the back of his head from a hole in the ground. Pathetic: of all things to make a lasting impression on him, it had to be something he had completely imagined.

The fiasco in Helsinki was his last memory of a completely failed heist with Lupin, one he cherished with a fierce shadenfreude and a fondness he didn’t like to examine. 

The first memory of a failed heist… in many respects, that one started the same, in a way that should have been endlessly satisfying to Albert.  
It was always quite the spectacle, when Lupin failed.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Their getaway car stunk of shattered concrete, burnt metal and blood.

“You _so _owe me a new car.”__

__The thief by his side barely stirred, but one eye slanted open to stare sullenly back at him._ _

__“I don’t,” he said, hoarse and distant._ _

__“You do unless you want to completely reupholster this one. And find a way to get rid of this stench.”_ _

__Albert wished he could open the windows to let in some air. But it was a cold autumn night, and Lupin was already hunched over and shivering._ _

__He could find humor in the situation if he juxtaposed his prone, battered form with the cocksure bragging punk from only a day ago. It felt good to watch him deflate like the hot windbag he was. But mostly, it left Albert with damage control duties in the wake of this damn crash test of a heist. He had words for Gaston when they got back._ _

__The other man -teenager? He sure acted like one most of the time- had let his eyes shudder back shut. His mouth was twisted into a tight, thin line; his left hand was clenched on his knee. It didn’t look like the pain would let him sleep any time soon. Still, he was most likely concussed: his bent head sported a bloody dent, and there was a broad streak of dark red staining his hair and neck. The rest of him was a mess of torn clothes, friction burns, blood and rumble._ _

__Better to keep him talking, just in case._ _

__“You look like roadkill. I hope you are proud of yourself.”_ _

__Lupin grunted but didn’t open his eyes. Albert went on, voice darkening with impatience:_ _

__“I believe someone warned you these people were nuts and would blow up a building over your head if they could. I also believe you called that someone a boring chicken. So. How has your superior insight been working out for you tonight?”_ _

__That finally got a reaction out of him. The half-lidded glare the thief directed at him was wary and resentful._ _

__“I’ve seen the treasure map,” he rasped out. There was a strange note of urgency piercing through his dazed state. “It’s destroyed now, but I can find…”_ _

__“Forget the treasure,” Albert snapped back. “They know damn well you’ve seen the map. They didn’t just blow up their own facilities, you know: there is an entire private field on the other side of town that’s been set on fire by masked arsonists. The loot is up in flames. But I guess you were too busy crawling out of a pile of ruins to notice.”_ _

__Albert scoffed._ _

__“Looks like you really pissed them off. You are good at that, at least.”_ _

__Lupin’s mouth stammered shut as he struggled to process the news. His hands twitched a little -grasping for the gun he usually kept in his waistband, fiddling briefly with the locking system on the passenger door. Whatever he meant to achieve, he mostly succeeded in jostling his head injury, and soon curled in on himself again with a wince, followed by a string of half-muttered curses in Japanese._ _

__“Stick to a language I know, stupid,” Albert said. “You are incoherent enough as it is.”_ _

__He wasn’t sure why it annoyed him so much, when Lupin randomly switched to some distant language. Just that it did._ _

__“’m not incoherent,” the other grumbled back in French._ _

__Yeah, right. Albert geared down to navigate through a winding stretch of road._ _

__“You are damn lucky I ran into you, you know that? I shouldn’t have bothered looking for your sorry ass when you missed the rendez-vous point. Did you get lost or something?”_ _

__“Not lost,” Lupin muttered again, like a stubborn child._ _

__“Yeah? I’d love to hear how you ended up walking away from the hideout, then.”_ _

__Albert had a hard time remembering how he had even thought of checking that particular road. He had been out of options, rattled by the column of fire that had risen into the dark, and unwilling to get back to Gaston only to tell him the treasure was lost to the flames along with his new partner. He usually kept a cleaner record than this on his heists. He had been driving around frustrated and aimless, and this road had been faintly familiar._ _

__His hands were clenched so hard on the wheel he had to consciously pry them open to attack the next turn._ _

__Right, fine. He could call Gaston now and make a report. That would be productive. He fished his emergency phone out of his pocket, not bothering to check how many missed calls were on there._ _

__“I told you this would happen,” was the first thing he said when the call went through, talking over the agitated voice of the older man._ _

__He was halfway through ranting about the disastrous heist when he noticed Lupin’s eyes in his peripheral vision –a queer, watchful glint in the dark. Gaston made use of his brief startled silence:_ _

__“So he is going to make it, I gather?”_ _

__Albert sniffed disdainfully._ _

__“He looks half flayed and can’t tell North from South, but yes, he will live.”_ _

__“Good then.” The man let out a long sigh that crackled through the line. “That’s good. You two lie low until the dust settles, I’ll arrange your transport back to France. Keep a good eye on him.”_ _

__“Fantastic,” Albert said dryly. “Just be quick about it.”_ _

__“Of course. I can’t wait to hear the full story.”_ _

__Gaston then burst into an unexpected fit of laughter._ _

__“I dare say, that was a gallant attempt, foolhardy as it was. Do tell our friend to not let this setback get to him, will you Albert?”_ _

__“I’ll pass the word,” Albert deadpanned._ _

__He ended the call, and immediately threw his phone at the headboard._ _

__“A gallant attempt? _A gallant attempt? _What does he think this is, a jousting contest? Give me a fucking break and keep me out of your midlife crisis, you old goat! I swear to God…”___ _

____Lupin let out a rusted chuckle by his side._ _ _ _

____“Gaston is pretty chill, huh?”_ _ _ _

____“Easy to be when you’re safely home forging passports.”_ _ _ _

____“Maybe he misses working in the field,” the other mused, turning to gaze out the window._ _ _ _

____They drove the rest of the way in silence. In the relative quietness of the car, the hammering of Albert’s heart slowly, slowly went down to a normal rhythm. Now if he only knew what had gotten him so worked up in the first place._ _ _ _

____Their hideout was a small empty apartment on the outskirt of town. They used the fire escape stairs to make it to their flat unnoticed. They then had to stumble through various piles of rubbish to get to the bathroom door –along with everything else, Lupin had proven to be an abysmal housemate. Albert finally made it to the bathroom closet and grabbed their first aid kit. He took off his shades to throw a fresh, critical glance at his partner._ _ _ _

____He really was a sorry sight in the harsher light of the halogen. Albert couldn’t even tell the extent of his injuries under all the dust and debris that stuck to him._ _ _ _

____“You’ll have to get in the shower first. I can’t disinfect your wounds like this. Can you undress?”_ _ _ _

____There was a good chance he couldn’t: his right hand was so badly cut open it was virtually useless. He didn’t act like he was in too much pain, but that must be numbness from the shock: he was swaying a little on his feet, and his eyes wandered around the room like he didn’t quite recognize where he was. Still, he gave Albert a tired nod and started kicking off his shoes. He undid the belt with his left hand, and squirmed out of his pants readily enough. The charred remnants of his jacket also fell to the ground with little resistance._ _ _ _

____He paused as he was about to lift his shirt above his shoulders, glancing back at Albert. The corners of his lips twisted briefly._ _ _ _

____“See something you like?”_ _ _ _

____Albert fought back a brief flush of dread at the words. There was nothing particularly malicious or threatening in Lupin’s distant voice and unfocused eyes. He probably thought he was making some kind of dumb joke. Albert made a point of crossing the small distance between them so he could grab the shirt himself._ _ _ _

____“All I am seeing is a damn useless assistant. Arms up, this is taking all night.”_ _ _ _

____“I’m not your _assistant _, asshole,” Lupin hissed back, his best articulated sentence since the heist.___ _ _ _

______“Lucky for you. If you were you’d be fired.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______The shirt had been torn down the back and was drenched in blood. Albert had to peel the shredded halves off from a broad, jagged wound that ran halfway to his hip, where it tapered off into friction burns. It was deep enough that it would ideally need some stitches, had the skin not been so lacerated. There was dust and even pieces of gravel and glass stuck to the flesh. Albert swallowed thickly._ _ _ _ _ _

______“This will leave a scar.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Lupin twisted his neck a little to consider the wound._ _ _ _ _ _

______“No it won’t.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Great, so he was back to objecting to the most random things then, that was helpful._ _ _ _ _ _

______Albert threw the ruined fabric to the floor –and had a minor heart attack when he looked up to find Lupin slipping out of his boxers. Before he could protest, the thief had stepped past him and was clambering awkwardly into the bathtub, looking for all the world like he had forgotten Albert was still there with him. He then sank into a crouch and let his head hang limp, holding out his damaged hand like it wasn’t his, and he didn’t quite know what to do with it._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Right,” Albert said, fairly pointlessly. He grabbed the shower head and passed it briefly from hand to hand. “Right. I’ll start with the one on your head. Stay still.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______The water came out grey, then faintly red as he threaded it through his partner’s hair. He was careful to keep it to a lukewarm trickle, but Lupin still let out a sharp hiss whenever it got too close to the bump on his head. Next was the gash down his back. Albert had to angle the shower head to remove the dust-blackened foam that clang to the rough edges of the wound, and to gingerly remove bits of rock, concrete and glass with his fingers. It all fell with a dull clatter at the bottom of the tub. As far as he could see, the legs were badly scratched but fine. That left the right hand, where a good half of the palm had been ripped off its skin._ _ _ _ _ _

______Lupin’s fingers twitched violently when he tried to pick at the debris and torn bits of skin stuck in there. Albert had to step back and dig through the first aid kit until he could find a pair of tweezers. Then, trapping Lupin’s fingers in his left hand, he set to work again._ _ _ _ _ _

______He felt like he was watching the scene unfold from a distance, from underwater. Perhaps it was the silence, barely touched by the low buzzing of the halogen and the hoarse intakes of breath that sometimes escaped Lupin’s lips. He vaguely wondered how late it was. He was fucking amazed he was handling the sight of the horrid wounds so well._ _ _ _ _ _

______Say what you will about the glamorous life of a thief: if he had a real job, there would be a proper health and safety department to deal with this sort of crap, and he would only work nine to five besides._ _ _ _ _ _

______By the time he was done, Lupin had gone limp again, head bowed against the ceramic wall. He barely stirred when Albert sprayed his various injuries with disinfectant and rinsed them one last time. His chest was rising and falling in slow, shallow breaths. Albert rummaged around a bit before he found a clean enough towel and, after looking between the fabric and his partner uncertainly, just dropped it over his head._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Hey,” he called. “I’m not drying you like a damn baby. Get up.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Nothing. Albert felt his eyebrow twitch._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Look, the sooner we get this over with, the sooner you can get bandages and painkillers. Your call.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Still more silence._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Hey.” This time, Albert crouched by his side to squeeze his arm. “Hey. Are you still in there? Get up.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______He thought the other was looking vaguely in his direction from under the towel, but his lids were drooping so heavily, he might as well be staring at the mesh of his own eyelashes. Albert dug his nails into his biceps._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Hey”, he called once more. “Hey. Wolf. You have to get up now.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Now, his partner definitely was looking at him, like a cat that just had its tail stomped on._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Don’t call me that.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“You gave me that name when I asked, you deal with it. Now get a move on before I lock your naked ass in here for the night.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______The resentful look continued, but Lupin slowly dragged himself upright, unfolding his gangly body limb by limb as he dabbed at himself with the towel._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I’m tired of it,” he muttered. “I want a new one. Don’t call me that again.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Albert rolled his eyes but didn’t reply._ _ _ _ _ _

______It was true that the name Wolf hadn’t come up in a while. During the weeks leading to the heists, the other thief had used “Lupin” as his alias while he needled his mark with taunts and advance warnings. Get them all in the same place, he had said, feed them crazy stories, get them to distrust each other. Convince them that Lupin was a phantom mastermind thief, with a whole sprawling organization at his command, and that some of their members were already sold to him. Then make use of the chaos to infiltrate their archive centre and get to the map._ _ _ _ _ _

______All in all “Lupin” had had a pretty short ride, fun as it seemed to have been for him. He would pick something new soon enough, and Albert would stop mentally calling him by a name he hadn’t earned –a name which for all intent and purposes should belong to him, Albert, if anyone._ _ _ _ _ _

______Dressing the wounds was less messy a task than washing them had been, and Albert made a fairly quick job of it. It was a relief to have the shredded skin tissues out of his sight at last. He handed Lupin the painkillers, which the other man dry-swallowed before Albert could even look for a glass of water._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Guess we should get you something to eat, too,” Albert said, rubbing at his face. “Just… just get on the sofa or something and I’ll see what we have.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Turned out, what they had was one onion, one potato, one carrot, an empty bottle of red wine and some herbs, leftovers from some elaborate beef stew Lupin had cooked the other day. The dish had looked like it would feed them for weeks, but the two boys had demolished it in one evening._ _ _ _ _ _

______You would have thought there would at least be some canned food left or something, they had bought so much of it. Albert stared in offence at the mismatch of vegetables._ _ _ _ _ _

______“We ran out of your stuff,” he called towards the living room._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Ah?” Lupin’s voice came out a little muffled, like his face was pressed against soft leather._ _ _ _ _ _

______“And I’m not cooking.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Okay.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Albert walked out of the kitchen as quickly as he’d come in, his face slightly red._ _ _ _ _ _

______Sure enough, there was Lupin, sprawled on his front on the sofa. He had mercifully put on a pair of pajama bottoms, and was absent-mindedly picking at the corners of the bandages on his right hand. Albert paced around the room a little, but he just kept running into Lupin, like he was taking all the space, uncharacteristically subdued though he was._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I’m gonna go check the car,” he decided._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Okay.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______It would look suspicious if there were visible blood marks left on the car, or if the smell of destruction was strong enough that you could detect it from walking by. That was Albert’s reasoning as he made his way back outside, hands tucked into his armpits against the cold. It was hard to spot anything out of place about the vehicle in the dark, hard to smell anything out of the ordinary through the phantom smell of antiseptics. Still, he could –go for a short drive, let the windows open to let in some air like he meant to do before. He needed to think. As long as he stayed well away from the sites of the arsons, he should be fine._ _ _ _ _ _

______Arson, heh. That was the sort of silly name Lupin might want to pick next, he thought as he started the ignition. Appropriate –it would go well with whatever dramatic scars he would gain from this heist. Maybe he should suggest it to him. God knew he could use a nudge in the right direction, now that defeat had knocked all the wits out of him._ _ _ _ _ _

_______I’m not lost _, he had said. Which was hilarious, considering how badly off-track he had been when Albert had found him at last. He had covered a longer distance, injuries and all, than he would ever have needed to had he just gone to their agreed pick-up point.__ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Albert was driving way faster than was sensible on this road of rotten asphalt and dust-filled potholes._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He passed the spot where he had found Lupin, frozen like a deer in headlights, cut short in the middle of an unbalanced half-jog onward into the night. It was a familiar road –he had driven there at least once before, or been driven there. Albert rubbed at his eyes again in aggravation. He felt stupid and slow. He hated feeling like he was missing something._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Albert and Lupin had barely left each other’s side since they had gotten to the town. They always took the car together, even to go grocery shopping –quarreling endlessly over who got to take the wheel. Gaston had been tight-lipped about what had motivated the arrangement, whether it was to keep them safe while they hid in enemy territory, or to dissuade Lupin from giving his own daring scheme a miss and making off with their car._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________So if Albert knew that road from before, then Lupin had to know it as well. Why had he gone back there, where had he been headed?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________It dawned on him as he started driving past dark, rustling masses. The thicker shadows of hills and low mountains were crowding the sky ahead of him. A pair of staring eyes met his in a brief glint –had that been a fox?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________No wonder he had been so confused. That was the place Lupin had taken him on a goddamn mushroom hunt._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He had pulled off that little outing through sheer nerve. He had looked so thrilled as he had driven them past the forest edge that Albert’s first, absurd guess had been that he might have actually guessed the location of the treasure after all. But no – he had parked at random, handed Albert some new walking shoes and an oversized backpack full of picnic food, had declared brightly that it was a great time of the year for mushrooms, and he had sauntered on ahead._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Albert had been suspicious, of course. Lupin didn’t strike him as the cold-blooded murderous type, but he wasn’t in the habit of betting his life on a mere hunch. He had had his gun ready and his GPS tracking on for most of the day, but in the end Lupin had done just that –mushroom hunting. He had prattled on happily as he shuffled and crunched his way through dead leaves, sniffed at the crisp air and ran his fingers through dirt to pick or toss away mushrooms of various shapes. The weather had been fine. The picnic had been excellent. And the mushrooms had ended up in the beef stew._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Lupin had looked so pleased as he busied himself around the steaming pots that Albert had, slowly, started to accept the whole adventure at face value. He could understand feeling stifled in the forced flatshare situation they were in. It had been undeniably nice to get to stretch his legs, after weeks spent browsing through hacked emails and fixing latex masks._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He now turned on the GPS on his phone, displayed the recorded track from that day, and parked in the same spot. He found a flashlight in the glove compartment, pulled the windows back up, stepped out, slammed the door shut. The forest was rising around him, towards the mountains, and was full of strange sounds._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He had vague suspicions of what this had all been about, he thought, even though in his tired state he couldn’t quite piece out the implications. He wasn’t even sure it was worth investigating as hard as he was. Still, the walking shoes, those two giant backpacks – Albert had never seen him buy them, mortifying as it was to admit. Lupin had definitely shown he was capable of smuggling odd shit right under his nose if he put his mind to it. Perhaps that was why he had been so willing to take on cooking duties, while you couldn’t make him pick up a sock if you threatened him at gun point. It gave him free reign in stores._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________And the two bags had been so full, he could have been hiding anything in his._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________So –had he found the treasure through some other mean after all, and hidden it away before the heist had even began? It made no sense, when would he have had an opportunity – and besides, why would he go back to his hiding place and his prize now, when he was too injured to go anywhere with it?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Albert spared a fleeting, commiserating thought for his boots, and started climbing. He kept one eye on the lookout for twisted roots that poked out from the bed of leaves, and one on the trail on his GPS._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Whatever Lupin had meant to bring up here, he must have known he was being tracked. He also must have felt confident that the chances of Albert finding a specific spot along that meandering trail they had trekked through for hours were close to none. What he probably didn’t know was that Albert had pinned a position whenever he had lost sight of him, whether he had been running on ahead, going on a bathroom break or falling down a trench, and logged the time he’d spent out of sight. Now, if he overlaid the pins on a forest map – if what he was looking for was –_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________That one, near a stream, where he had been gone for almost ten minutes._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________After a solid half hour of beating through bushes near the pinned location, checking between roots and jumping at the odd nocturnal call, Albert’s headache had returned full-force. He was being stupid, he knew, and stubborn. He should just leave this be, or at least come back again by daylight – yet he couldn’t stop running his flashlight along the twisted shapes of the trees around him, with a growing, unexplained dread._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________In the end, he almost fell into it, the hole in the ground._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________It was nestled between the roots of a dying tree, its bark rotten and a good chunk of its trunk hollowed out. The earth around it was damp from the nearby stream. The edges of the hole looked disturbed, as though something large had crawled through recently, and when he pointed his flashlight into its narrow, serrated mouth, he caught a glint reflected by something plastic, far into the burrow and almost out of sight. It better damn be the treasure, if he had to dive into the dirt for it – but he knew it wasn’t, didn’t he, that riches weren’t the purpose of this whole little orienteering game Lupin had been playing against him, otherwise he wouldn’t have looked for a stream, which would have damaged the stolen goods._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________So in the end it was sick curiosity, and the need to see this through to the end, that made him flatten himself against the humid soil and push past the roots into the hole, were unseen creatures slithered across his face. After a short struggle, he made it to an underground niche, just high and wide enough that he could tuck his legs under him in an awkward sitting position, head bowed almost to his knees and small roots brushing against his hair._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________The thing he’d seen reflecting the light was a bin bag, packed and sealed so tightly it looked almost perfectly square. Breathing harshly through his nose –he had no intention of opening his mouth even for a moment in here –he tore the bag open._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________A bunch of canned food fell in a clatter onto his lap. He stared at it for a while in silence. Right. So that was where it had all gone. There was dried food in there as well, all packed into tiny, waterproof bricks and stacked together like a miniature wall. And then, more alarmingly, compresses and bandages, scissors and needles, disinfectant, a survival blanket folded into a square the size of Albert’s hand. And a knife, a compass, a map. No water, though. Water took space._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Albert stared blankly at the glinting drops of water that slithered along the roots in front of him. Then, slowly, slowly, he backed away from the sight, crawling backwards, pushing at the damp clumps of soil with his hands and knees until he was back at the entrance of the hole, fingers clasping decaying roots, head resting against the hollowed trunk as he raggedly breathed in fresh open air once more._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He dugged into the pockets of his coat. He was sure he still had some cigarettes in there. It would drive away whatever insects and slugs where swarming near, if nothing else._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Lupin had been delirious, he decided firmly as he lighted it. Somehow, unbelievably – but his pain tolerance was so high, who knew what was normal to him – Albert took a long drag, breathed out a shuddering stream of smoke – somehow in his concussed state he hadn’t even realized that he was hurt, and he had gone to this weird sulking place he had prepared in advance to hide while he got over the sting of his defeat. He had looked startled when Albert had found him, eyes narrowed into unhappy slits against the headlights. And fair enough, that was a normal reaction to harsh light, when you had just been bumped to the head by half a building. Maybe being momentarily blinded also explained why he had seemed to hesitate before stepping in the car. He had been delirious._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Because Lupin could not possibly, seriously believe he could survive and heal in this rotting hole in the ground with one valid hand and half the skin missing from his goddamn back._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________And wouldn’t that be the stupidest way to go imaginable, dying of infection and exposure less than an hour drive away from help, because, what? No one had stopped to mention that he would _not _get shot on sight if he failed? And if that was how extreme he had thought his position was, why had he looked so eager to prove himself at all? He had walked into this heist so giddy with excitement he had barely slept the night before – Albert knew because the other thief had kept him awake – like he was going to some long-awaited photoshoot rather than diving into a flaming death trap.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Doesn’t __he __make __you __feel _", Gaston had mused once, shortly after then-Wolf had stumbled into their lives, black-clad, an overconfident and clumsy cat burglar who zip-lined across buildings for the sheer joy of falling, " _that __the __new __Lupin __lies __somewhere __between __the __two __of __you? __Lupin II, __a __double __act, __your __skills __and __lineage, __and __his __flair __for __showmanship, __how’s __that __for __a __concept?" ______  
He couldn’t remember what he had replied. He had been offended, mostly. Did Gaston think so little of him, to believe he needed the extra help?_______________________________________________________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________________________________________________________________He spit out his cigarette and with it the sour taste in his mouth. Well. They had gambled time and resources on this weird hunch of Gaston’s, and entrusted a whole heist to some half-feral common thief. And what would you know, it had been a damn mess. How was that for a concept._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________________________________________________________________He was cold. He had wasted enough time figuring out his partner’s fever-addled and paranoid logic. He should go home._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________________________________________________________________He started walking, stumbled and stopped when he remembered he had left the bag of supplies a mess – Lupin was sure to notice and connect the dots, if he came back to check on it. Albert hovered, uncertain, before he gritted his teeth and turned his back firmly from the barely-visible entrance. Like hell was he crawling into that rancid tomb again. Let him make of it what he fucking would._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________________________________________________________________As he walked away, he thought he felt eyes burning into the back of his head, watchful and feverish, but he never turned back. Over-alert nerves from spending too long in a forest at night, he knew. Maybe he was sensing some wild animal. Maybe the fox from before…_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________________________________________________________________He blinked as he found his way back to the car and stepped out of the forest into a foggy, greyish light. Somehow, he had run around in mindless circles all the way until morning. The motor sounded as weary as he felt when he got in and turned the key in the ignition. He pressed his forehead against the wheel for a few short moments, the vibrations of the motor soothing the pressure behind his eyes._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________________________________________________________________That whole heist had been a stupid, dangerous idea, and he would say as much to Gaston in way more creative terms when he next saw him face to face. Their organization, reconnected loose ties from the old Lupin empire – all the cogs and networks draped in secrecy, favours owed and blackmail material – functioned well enough; they had no need to drag _showmanship _into it and compromise the whole system. And Lupin himself – or Wolf, or Arson, or whatever Albert should start calling him now – was too much of an unknown quantity to ever be worth the risk.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________________________________________________________________He made it easy to forget, with how talkative he was and the excruciating details he would give about his dating attempts, that neither Albert nor Gaston knew the first fucking thing about the guy. They didn’t know his past, in which country he had grown up, or even which of the many languages he spoke was his mother tongue. A few things Albert could guess. He doubted the other man had had a normal education or a stable home, and it could be he was completely self-taught – it was in the way he would rattle on and on about odd and obscure trivia, but sometimes his eyes would dart to the side in brief panic during a steadier conversation about law, or art theory or history and politics, and he would derail it with jokes and find some pretext to walk away. How he navigated high-end restaurants with deliberate ease, but then demonstrated awful taste everywhere else – garish cars, football and dumb action flicks on TV, street food that would make a goose sick. How the corners of his lips had quirked up, half in curiosity and half in derision, that one time he had asked Albert _“So, __d’Andrésy, __huh? __That __blue __blood __or __something?”________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________________________________________________________________________________There was no telling what he wanted from them, either – a new, interesting name, to wear for a short while until he got bored of it like the others. Better and steadier resources to tide him over during a dry patch in his thieving career – he had certainly looked scrawny and ravenous when they had found him, and his previous break-ins, insofar as Gaston had managed to dig up a reliable record, had pointed to a pretty low success rate. Albert liked to think that envy played some role in there as well – there was definitely a harsh, hungry look in Lupin’s eyes when he watched Albert manufacture the perfect latex imitation of a face, heard him morph his voice into that of an old man or a child, or saw him forge a painting._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________________________________________________________________________________None of that mattered now. Albert rubbed briefly at his eyes, straightened up and turned the car around. He felt like the fox was still there, hidden just beyond the treeline and watching him expressionlessly, as he drove away._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________________________________________________________________________________Day was breaking, and there was even a bit of pink on the horizon by the time Albert made it back to their apartment. He looked at the first rays of sunlight with vague, tired disapproval. It felt impossibly heavy to carry his own body weight up the fire escape stairs. Up there, he struggled with his keys for a while. Birds had started chirping in the distance. They sounded loud and grating to his ears. His mouth was very dry and his headache had come back with a vengeance._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________________________________________________________________________________He didn’t know what he expected to find when he opened the door._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________________________________________________________________________________That Lupin’s odd stare would be there to greet him, trailing down his frame thickly like a tangible weight, taking in everything from the dirt in his hair to the smudges on his coat and the dead leaves stuck to the sole of his boots._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________________________________________________________________________________Or that he would find an empty sofa and an empty flat, nothing but a vague smell of disinfectant in the air, that the nameless thief had slithered back to some other unlikely shelter in the wild, and that that would be the end of it, just like Albert had wanted._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________________________________________________________________________________Lupin had shifted in his sleep so that his legs were twisted haphazardly on the cramped space of the sofa. One foot was sticking out over the edge. His pajamas had slipped and exposed half of his butt. He was lying on his side, his bandaged hand tucked protectively close to his chest, neck craned backwards in a position that looked bewilderedly birdlike and entirely uncomfortable. His left arm was dangling off the edge and threatening to drag the rest of his body down to crash onto the floorboards._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________________________________________________________________________________Because Albert was in a mood to get annoyed by whatever made itself available, he got annoyed at that, the fact Lupin might fall off and mess up the bandages he’d spent so long putting there. He should – cushion the floor at least, a mattress would be a good idea. He made it to Lupin’s room and tugged once ineffectively at the mattress before the magnitude of the effort struck him. In the end he just grabbed the blanket and dragged it across the floor as he blearily made his way back to his sleeping partner._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________________________________________________________________________________He was planning to crouch down and spread the cover onto the floor where Lupin might fall – it wouldn’t help much, but it would be a token effort. Instead, somehow, he ended up sprawled on top of the soft fabric, listening to the thrumming of his own blood in his ears, keeping his eyes open the greatest struggle he had ever faced._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________________________________________________________________________________He still had to get a shower and rid himself of all the forest grime. Also, the floor was littered with dirty dishes and discarded clothes, and the blanket he was lying on smelt intrusively of Lupin. He could see his hand – the left one, the healthy one – dangling so close to his face his fingers would probably brush against Albert’s nose if one of them so much as twitched in their sleep._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________________________________________________________________________________It would be weird to stay here. He should get up, he thought, more and more distantly as his eyes shuddered shut, oddly secure in the chirping of birds and the weak morning light, dozing, then soundly asleep._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


End file.
